It's All About Location
by 16ckelmen
Summary: Watch time unravel through one solid color and two people. A drabble one-shot... I guess


Pink, it was something he came to, unknowingly, connect to one singular girl. Arnold wasn't sure when it happened, but he knew it did. When he was nine, he would catch a glance of the color in the corner of his eye, and he would become nervous. He'd feel his heart race, as he locked his eyes on the color. It would end up being something stupid like a flower or a mailbox. He would then try to calm himself down, unsure of why he felt suddenly disappointed. He would let out a sigh and put on a smile. He thought he was happy. Yet, he kept glancing around for her. Then, when he was sure she was not going to pop up out of nowhere, he would turn the corner only to collide right into her. Arnold would land on the ground opposing her. He would get up, offer his hand to her, and only then would he notice it was her, as his eyes landed on a pink bow.

Later on, he would go off to the jungle to save his parents. She, of course, had come to help find his parents as well. His heart was pounding as he raced through the forest. His eyes wide as he worried for the girl running beside him. He heard a crack and suddenly she wasn't at his side. Arnold's heart only raced faster. He looked around wildly, trying to spot her. Then pink caught his eye and there she was. She sat on the ground a broken branch by her and a large cut on her arm. Arnold let out a gasp and was by her side in a second. She rolled her eyes as she pulled out a water bottle from her bag. She doused the cut before pulling the bow from her hair and wrapping the pink ribbon around the wound. He felt rather thankful to the small piece of pink.

A couple years later and she had changed. She was aloof and was dressed in darker colors. She seemed to disappear and he started to yearn for her old nature. He would often feel like something was missing. Then he would stumble into her in the library, catching her in his arms, and notice a quick flash of pink. Each time he spotted the color, a sigh of relief left him. The one ribbon peeping from the inside of a cap informed him that she was okay. She would always stiffen, fix the cap's location, and then left quicker than the short temper she used to have. He stood in the library hoping for the chance to catch another glance of pink about her.

High school came and he would make his way over to her house and knock on the door. He would wait, fidgeting the whole while. The door would open and an annoyed father would greet his sight. The older man would growl, before calling for his daughter to come to the door. Arnold would stare at the ground, until her voice hits his ear. He would snap his head up trying to see her. Then he saw pink, It wrapped itself delicately around her soft neck. He would grab her hand and offer to carry her books. She would roll her eyes and decline. One hand would casually raise to casually play with the fabric decorating her neck. Arnold would lick his lips, as he felt ashamed of himself. He yearned to place his lips where the pink teasingly lay.

He stared at his wife and smiled. She was beautiful. Pink. She was dressed in pink, as she wrote away in a pink journal. He was sure she knew exactly what she was doing. He couldn't help but think that she expressed herself through the ribbons location. First her hair, where he was dense to her open emotions that laid twisted through intent. Then to her arm, where it helped her heal as he realized her importance to him. Next, it was hidden while she struggled with change and he tried to find courage. It quickly moved onto her neck for their new relationship. Now, it had moved again.

Arnold walked over to his wife and sat down beside her. He waited patiently for her to finish up. His arms slowly circling her. She sighed before closing the book and staring at him. "Helga, I like your bow," Arnold whispered. He felt her shiver in his arms as she stared into his eyes. A smirk laid hidden in her sapphire eyes. Oh, yes, she definitely knew what she was doing. He leaned in just ghosting above her lips. She growled but didn't move to close the sliver of a gap. So, she wanted him to take the final step. He could do it. Arnold pressed their lips together. Helga released a small hum to announce her pleasure of him finally initiating a kiss on his own. She was his, though, and now that Arnold was one hundred percent sure of that fact. That pink little bow tied the front of her shirt together. He broke from contact whispering, "I love you, Helga." Then he reconnected, as his hands started to wonder. Arnold wasn't sure when pink came to stand for helga, but now he couldn't picture it any other way. He loved that tiny bow, pink, and Helga.


End file.
